


Of Hexes, Then Harmony

by stormylullabye



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Community: fandom_stocking, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-01-04
Updated: 2012-01-04
Packaged: 2017-10-28 22:29:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 910
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/312874
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stormylullabye/pseuds/stormylullabye
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><i>“You complete bastard,” Harry spits, vibrating with the tension of holding himself in place. “You had better have a good reason for what you did.”</i></p><p><i>“Of course I had a good reason,” Draco replies, even-tempered. “I wanted to do it. Oh, and also you told me to do it.”</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	Of Hexes, Then Harmony

**Author's Note:**

> In my mind this takes place when the boys are 16/17ish, even though that doesn't really fit well with the canon storyline. It makes me happier that way, so that's what it is in my brain.

Harry paces the floor erratically, fuming mad at the man who had better be behind the door that’s about to appear in the wall. It’s Harry’s third try at getting the door to show up; apparently he has a difficult time concentrating when he’s _this bloody angry_. Finally, the door shows up and Harry launches himself into it, thankfully remembering to turn the handle before hitting it full force. The door bangs open and slams shut again leaving Harry rooted in place, staring in disbelief across the room.

Draco has decorated the room rather simply today, at least for his usual taste. There’s a fireplace burning in front of a dark brown leather couch, with a low, elegant coffee table in between the two. The only other furnishings in the room are a grey rug and some drapes over the windows. Draco has draped himself over the couch and looks now at Harry with hooded eyes. A slow smile spreads over his face and he quirks an eyebrow. “Quite the entrance that was, Potter,” he drawls.

“You complete bastard,” Harry spits, vibrating with the tension of holding himself in place. “You had better have a good reason for what you did.”

“Of course I had a good reason,” Draco replies, even-tempered. “I wanted to do it. Oh, and also you told me to do it.”

“I did not, Malfoy. I would never have told you to attack my friends, and keeping a simple secret does _not_ involve putting four people into the hospital wing.”

“Says you,” Draco replies, still lounging on the couch and looking to all the world carefree. Harry knows him better than that, though, and can see that he’s tense and guarded. As well he should be, as Harry is going to wipe that smug little look off of his face any minute now.

“Says any normal person with actual social skills, Draco.” Harry uses every bit of energy he has to walk calmly across the room instead of launching himself directly onto the couch. He also sends a mental thanks to Hermione for instilling enough common sense in him over the years that Harry left his wand back in his room. Harry knows that he if had brought his wand, he would have used it by now, almost assuredly to noone’s benefit. “Get up,” Harry demands.

Draco, ever the bastard, smiles and doesn’t move. “But I’m comfy, Harry,” he whines.

“Get up, you bugger.”

“Well that’s not very nice,” Draco responds pouting, but finally stands to face Harry with his hands in his pockets and a reserved look on his face.

“You know what’s not very nice, Draco?” Harry asks. When Draco raises his eyebrows, Harry punches him square in the nose. Draco falls back onto the couch but makes no sound at all, a remnant of his childhood, Harry knows.

“Ow,” Draco says after a few moments in a completely even tone. He’s got a hand on his nose and is looking up at Harry expectantly, apparently waiting for him to make the next move. Harry crosses his arms over his chest.

“Yeah, ow. At least you don’t have to go to the hospital wing to get that fixed, Malfoy.”

“Back to Malfoy? And here I thought we were progressing,” Draco says, a slight smile on his face despite the blood dripping down out of his nose. Harry sighs and deflates, just as he knew he would after hitting Draco. He drops down onto the couch.

“Here, let me see.” Harry cleans the blood from Draco’s face with some tissues generously supplied by the room, then sighs again. “They’ll all be fine, by the way. That’s the only reason I’m here and not still beating you, I hope you know.”

“I’m glad, then,” Draco replies. “It was quite a nice stinging hex if I may say so, though,” he continues contemplatively. “I didn’t even mean to hit the Weasel’s brothers and sister, they were bonuses.”

“Bastard,” Harry counters. “Really though, I don’t care what kind of comment Ron makes about you being in love with me, if you ever put my friends in the hospital wing again I’ll put you right in there with them. I don’t care how good of a shag you are.”

“But I am a spectacular shag, right?” Draco asks, a smug grin stretching across his face.

“You’re alright,” Harry replies, falling easily into an old argument. “I’ve had better.”

“Bloody liar, you have not.”

“Have so.” Harry lets a lazy smile stretch over his face and a far-off look settle into his eyes. “You’ve never made me forget my own name.” He sighs.

It takes longer than he expects but still no more than a minute for the bed to appear behind them with a soft pop. Harry assumes Draco held out in an attempt to reserve some of his pride, but Harry grins at his ability to predict the other man’s reactions all the same. Draco stands and removes his shirt in one graceful movement, then levels a glare in Harry’s direction.

“Let’s go, Potter, I haven’t got all night,” he declares, crossing his arms over his pale, sculpted chest. “I have detention in two hours, and I intend to use that time to drive you so completely mad that you’ll still be a babbling loon when I return for you three hours later.” Harry grins stupidly and hops up from the couch, following his lover to the bed.


End file.
